The Pirates come to Minas Tirith: Borobeth Lives
by 00thisaccountisvoid00
Summary: Elizabeth catches Boromir's eye on the pirates' quick trip to Gondor.


**Author's Note:** So this is a crossover, but not a completely random one. There's a group of Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean blogs on Tumblr that I happen to be apart of, and Boromir/Elizabeth (or Borobeth) came up one day as a running joke. So I decided to give Borobeth a little background, and this story takes place on the day/night the pirates visited the Middle Earth folk.

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**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

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**The Pirates come to Minas Tirith: Borobeth Lives**

The Royal Banquet Hall of Minas Tirith glittered in the light of the hundreds of candles smoldering in its huge gold chandelier. Directly below it sat a long oaken table covered with crisp white linen, and a black velvet runner with the White Tree embroidered on it ran it's length. The table was brimming with all sorts of food: mutton, puddings of all sorts, creamy steaming soups, roast pig, roast boar, a shank of beef, three platters of smoked salmon caught from the mighty Anduin that very morning, and delicate desserts piled high, decorated with graceful icing swirls. Amongst the grand silver dishes sat flagons of Gondoran ale, Rohan's famous mulled mead, and rum – in abundance.

Everyone was present: the Fellowship, the MIR Brothers, Arwen, Eowyn. Captain Jack, Will, Elizabeth, the heavily inebriated Bucket. Norry, Tia Dalma, Barbossa, and the beautifully dramatic Captain Teague, who gently strummed his guitar in the corner of the hall, closest to the fire.

As Teague's music filled the air, the notes mingled with the heavy smoke of fine Old Toby pipeweed, drifting up from carved pipes hovering all around the majestic table. The hall reverberated with laughter and mirth as their two worlds clashed and mingled – and formed into a new, strange and wonderful existence that only they could truly appreciate. Bonds were made as songs were sung, jokes shared, dances that were given drunkenly but all the more enthusiastically on the table top (mostly between the hobbits, but Bucket and Elizabeth even joined in once or twice, to humor them).

Dawn began breaking as they all finally called it a night, and stumbled to their rooms. Aragorn and Arwen disappeared to their wing of the castle arm-in-arm, talking and smiling quietly to each other. Both had had too much wine, and as the King of Gondor went to whisper into his Queen's ear, his hand slid lower and lower down her back until she gave a surprised gasp, much to the amusement of the hobbits as they ran raucously down the halls. The Halflings went off to their rooms to join in what they insisted on calling a "cuddle pile," dancing and laughing all the more louder. As the King and Queen disappeared to their chambers, the hobbits continued banging the suits of armor as they passed to the tunes of one of their many drinking songs. The pirates were shown to their wing of the castle where their apartments had been set up, Jack disappearing sordidly with at least half the female kitchen staff to his own private quarters. The rest retired to theirs, and the halls of the castle of Minas Tirith fell into a peaceful silence.

Boromir wasn't feeling particularly tired and chose to watch the sunrise. Ever since Gandalf had magically brought him back to life and his soul was carried back to Gondor by one of the great Eagles, he realized that he had never really appreciated the small, everyday joys of being alive. He had always been so focused on being strong, being honorable, being his father's favorite son andGondor's favorite captain. His ambition in his first life had made him forget that there was, indeed, more to life than said ambition – there was joy, and love, and humility and so much _more_. And he intended to correct that mistake with his second chance at life. He chose his favorite window, where he could see the entirety of Minas Tirith, Pelennor Fields, Ithilien, and beyond on a clear day, to watch the sunrise.

As he leaned forward on the window's ledge, the hilt of his sword knocked against the hewn stone of the wall, a loud sound startled him. He jumped and turned, only to witness something that he would have rather not: Legolas and Gimli spilled out of a curtained alcove, intertwined in one another, lips pressed to each other's in a deep, passionate embrace. Legolas's white hand was roving through the copper of Gimli's beard, and the dwarf's square skilled hands greedily traced the contours of the elf's lean body. Boromir hastily walked away, lest the lovers realize that their affections had been discovered.

In his haste to escape undetected, Boromir had entered the wing where the pirates were being put up, which was all the more to his advantage – at the end of the long hall there was a long window that light was pouring in through, well away from elf-dwarf shenanigans of any kind. Leaning against the frame, feeling the cool stone against the side of his face, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to be bathed in the light of dawn.

"Er, Boromir – Captain Boromir?"

Turning, once again interrupted, Boromir found himself face-to-face with Elizabeth. During the celebration banquet, his eye had often been draw to her as she laughed, talked, and sang with the rest of the company. He enjoyed both her company and her beauty equally, marveling at her quick tongue and skill with a blade. She was gorgeous, witty, and fiery, unlike most of the women he had met, save Arwen and Eowyn. Arwen he dared not even glance at in an inappropriate manner, for he cherished his friendship with the King – and did not wish to be killed. And Eowyn, well, Boromir was sure that had he not died, Eowyn would surely be his. But his brother had found domestic happiness with her, and a peace he had never before seen in Faramir had settled on him. Plus, Boromir would never, ever risk the bond he and his brother shared.

That left him with the other maidens of Gondor, many of which had vied for his attentions and had ultimately failed. He did not like them – they were petty, needlessly vain, and only sought to further themselves by trying to make a match with him. They knew nothing of loyalty, to man or to country or to themselves, or of inner strength, or what it meant to love someone so completely that it enveloped your entire being, and Boromir knew he could never enjoy being married to such a woman. He didn't mind enjoying the other pleasures such women offered, though – he was a man, after all.

As he and Elizabeth surveyed each other in the empty hallway, Boromir realized that he and Elizabeth would make a pretty fair match. Elizabeth was still in her pirate gear, sans weapon and hat. This made Boromir wonder.

"Good morning, Lady Elizabeth. Are you, looking for something?" he said questioningly, as she looked at him just as quizzically.

"Actually, yes," she answered. "Will snores so loud I cannot get even the tiniest bit of sleep. I was actually about to take a turn about the castle, but then I realized that I didn't know my way around."

A look of displeasure flashed across her face, and Boromir laughed. It filled the hall, and even made Elizabeth grin a little. "What?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips and striding to the window to stand next to him.

"You're a very resourceful woman, Lady Elizabeth. I'm sure you would be perfectly adequate navigating the wide halls of Minas Tirith by yourself. No need to fret."

"I wasn't fretting," she said rather loudly, her blue eyes meeting his gray ones. "I just didn't want to end up somewhere I wouldn't want to be."

Boromir raised his eyebrows. "And where, in the King's good castle, would you not want to be?" he inquired. She huffed and broke their stare, glaring resolutely out into the sunrise.

"I wouldn't want to run into Jack and those wenches he went off with," she answered after a short silence.

As she said did this, Boromir noticed the rich sun-kissed hue her skin held from travelling by sea as a living, and he thought it suited her disposition perfectly. And he marveled that despite all the sun and sea and ship-living, her skin still managed to look flawless and silky, her hair ruffled but just enough to look as if she had it that way on purpose. Little did she know, he had heard of her escapades with Jack.

"You bedded with him, did you not?" Boromir asked frankly, a grin mischievously tugging at the side of his lips. He ignored her as she spun around and, he imagined, gave him a look that could have probably slain him had he met her gaze.

"And tell me, sir, what concern of that is yours?" she asked through gritted teeth.

Boromir could practically feel the heat radiate off her body and all her muscles constrict in defense. Coolly, he continued.

"You were married to William when you did so, were you not?"

He was glad that she did not have her sword, because there surely would have been some sort of duel about to be raged, if she had.

"I don't have to answer to you, my friend, Boromir of Gondor," she spat scathingly.

Still calm, Boromir replied smoothly. "No, Lady Elizabeth, you surely do not."

He expected her to storm away, maybe even come back with her sword, but for some reason, she seemed to be glued to where she stood, staring at him as he stared out the window. Slowly, he turned.

A wave of sadness washed over him as he looked into her clear blue eyes: there was guilt, shame, sadness. An overwhelming desire came over him to embrace her, but he stilled his desire, and let her speak.

"I thought Will had abandoned me," she whispered quietly, her voice breaking at the word _me_. "I figured the only person who could give me even a glimmer of what Will gave me was Jack…." She trailed off. Boromir tried to look sympathetic, but he really didn't know how to react. One the one hand, she was a thieving, cheating, dangerous pirate lass, and on the other, she was a young lady, in the bloom of her beauty, sad. So he dealt with it the only way he knew how.

Resting his large hands on her shoulders, he looked her dead in the eye.

"Be true to yourself. And be true to your country."

For a moment the world stopped as they gazed at one another. Then Elizabeth burst out giggling.

"WHAT are you talking about?" she said through breathless giggles.

Boromir felt his face turning red. "Well, when young soldiers have doubts about joining the Tower Guard, that's what I tell them. Didn't know what else to say – I'm not big on emotions, really," he answered roughly. Elizabeth grabbed the wrist of his vambraces, as his hands were still on his shoulders.

As the light shifted, Boromir felt the energy between him and the Pirate King shift subtly, as they ignored the sunrise. Boromir felt a sort of dangerous anticipation build up inside his chest, realizing that she was untouchable – married, from another world, a seafarer while he thrived on land. But he only had this chance, this one chance to address the desire he had for her.

"You know, Elizabeth," he said, "I'd never leave you."

She smirked slyly. "And why is that, Captain Boromir?"

He smiled. "Because **you** are going to end up leaving **me** – late today, because you said you must be back in your world before Jones destroys Tortuga. And if you leave me, I'll never hurt you." For a moment, she did not speak, and the young Captain searched her expressionless face for some tell as to what she was thinking. If she was thinking the same thing as he was.

She was.

"What are you proposing, Boromir? That I cheat on my husband?" she said quietly.

He shook his head coolly.

"No. I am proposing that for once Elizabeth, just once, stop letting other people determine your choices. Do something for yourself for once," he said forcefully, passionately, pressing his body closer to hers.

Silence – long, painful silence filled the hall, as the segment of window shaped light on the marble floor grew brighter and brighter, yellowing. Eternities passed for Boromir, even though he knew that if he had wanted, he could overcome her with pure force – but that was not the kind of way he wanted to have Elizabeth. Not yet, anyways. After several more eternities, she finally spoke, breaking the hall's crystalline silence.

"You know, I've heard many stories about the Horn of Gondor….Pray tell, is it as big as they say it is?" she said. Boromir grinned and leaned forward even further, inhaling the sweet perfume lacing Elizabeth's smooth neck.

"Well, Miss Elizabeth, it's about 2 feet long, and very curvy too. Firm, long and hard. The perfect thing to blow, I'd say," he answered.

As if a canon had been set off, he felt her small hand press hard against his back, making their bodies touch in the early morning sun and sending an electricity up his spine. Her lips crashed against his, warm and inviting. Boromir grabbed the slender curve of Elizabeth's waist roughly, pulling her to his chest with matching enthusiasm, and then shoved her against the cool marble wall next to the window.

He grabbed a fistful of her auburn hair and pulled, making her give a little gasp, as he bit her neck, gently at first, then rougher, making impressions in her silky tan skin. She gave a little giggle of pleasure as her hand slipped into his doublet, running over his broad chest. As Elizabeth's fingers inched lower and lower, closer to his belt, Boromir grabbed his knife and cut roughly at the drawstrings holding her into the large leather belt she wore. It fell off with a loud clunk, but neither of them noticed. Boromir ran his hand along the white flesh of her hips, up into the tender skin of her breasts. She moaned, and reached for his belt buckle, unlatching it with an expertise that made him want her even more. Their lips found each other once again, and they were intertwined so tightly that he could feel the rapid beat of her heart against his.

Boromir felt the passion in him rising, and he made to slide down her breeches, but someone farther down the hall suddenly rang out with "Oi! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

Boromir and Elizabeth froze, breathless.

He had his back to the stranger, and so he searched Elizabeth's face for some kind of hint.

"Oh dear," she said simply, pushing the large Captain of Gondor away, face flushing crimson.

Refastening his belt, Boromir turned, to see none other than Lord Cutler Beckett.


End file.
